


I've Made a Horrible Mistake

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Poker, Reader-Insert, Smut, Strip Poker, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 13:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15074267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	I've Made a Horrible Mistake

“Okay, so you wanna play it that way?” You asked confidently, sitting down on the couch at one end. “How about we settle this with a challenge?”

“What kind?” Spencer asked with a smile. 

There was a very easy way to distract a man that liked women. Naked ladies. “How about poker? The strip kind, of course.”

The corners of his mouth ticked upward into an enormous grin as he sat at the opposite end of the couch. “I can get behind that. What are the stakes?”

“Whoever gives in to the other one first, loses.”

“So really it doesn’t have anything to do with poker,” he said, smirking.

The glint in his eye was delicious. You loved when he was playful. “Not at all. This is a test of wills.”

“I’m in. So whoever loses the hand has to take off an item of clothing that is decided upon by the winner of the hand.” Spencer set out the last of the roles and you agreed. You’d win the argument - who was more cunning (you of course) - and you’d get sexy times with Spencer out of it. 

As he went off to grab a deck of cards, you got into a comfortable position on the couch. You were already a little worked up, so losing clothing and having Spencer as a captive audience would make for an easy win. “Alright, switch off dealing?”

“Deal.”

When he sat down, you could already see by the crease in his pants that he was excited about your face-off. “I’ll deal first.”

Shuffling the deck only upped the anticipation. Once the cards were dealt, you checked it out to see that you had nothing at all. It looked like Spencer might have something, but he traded two cards to your three. You had one pair - sevens. You called, using quarters as your betting money, and Spencer raised. In return, you bluffed and called again causing him to raise again. It was highly likely that Spencer had the better hand and if you lost that meant taking off an item of clothing and beginning on your ultimate goal. “Alright, I fold.” At the same time, you laid down your hands. 

“Three of a kind,” he said cockily. “I win.”

“Alright, what item genius boy?”

“Bra.”

He was making this so easy on you. The moment he had you take off your shirt he was doomed. 

Slipping it off, you pulled it out of your shirt and threw it across the room. Three hands later, Spencer was sitting on the couch in his boxers…and one sock, very sexy - his two pair lost to your straight, then his one pair lost to your two, and finally his straight lost to your full house. 

You were on hand five and your nipples were painfully hard underneath your shirt. He’d already raised you three times. “Okay, I fold.”

Damn, he had a good hand. “Four of a kind, fuck Spence.”

“Shirt off!” He laughed. “It’s about time.”

Oh sweet, summer boy. You flicked the shirt across the room with your bra and shimmied your chest. “Oh, I didn’t think this through…I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

“No you didn’t, but too late to turn back, love.”

As he started dealing the next hand, his eyes barely left you. The way his gaze kept darting from head to chest and back again was making you all tingly; he had this way of making you feel beautiful no matter how put together or lazy you were. 

Another two hands passed and Spencer was buck naked and hard as a rock. He would cave soon.

“Alright, next round. I’m staying strong.”

“For now,” you giggled.

“Shut up. No giggling. It’s cute and it makes me want you.”

“Too bad!”

Your next hand could be fabulous given the right cards. All you needed was a 6 of hearts to complete a straight flush. “Just one card.” So close. A six in the wrong suit.

He also traded one card. You both did the same two more times before calling. The raising took nearly five minutes. Both of you were extremely confident in your hand. Finally, you were at a stalemate. Spencer called you one final time. “Show hands on the count of three.”

One.

Two.

Three.

Fucker had a royal flush.

“I win again! Pants off.”

He got so cocky about the winning hand that the fact that you were losing another item of clothing nearly slipped his mind until you peeled the flannel pajama pants off to reveal very sheer, very nude-colored panties. With the pants off, you spreading your legs and reached downward, touching yourself over the fabric. “Hey, that’s not fair. No touching allowed.”

“Well, you didn’t say that at the top of this challenge so I think the touching stands.”

“Dammit.”

Damn right, dammit. 

You would break him this hand. You could feel it. He was starting to sweat and he couldn’t keep his eyes off your center, already ready for him. While he dealt what would undoubtedly be the final hand, you gently slid your finger up and down your slit underneath the sheer material you were wearing. He was biting his lip so hard you thought it might bleed. 

Halfway through the hand, he screamed. “Okay, fuck it!” Standing up, he picked you up off the couch and threw you over his shoulder before bringing you inside. He reached out and yanked your panties off in one quick movement. 

“You do realize this means that I win right?” You asked, twisting your nipples between your thumbs and forefingers.

“Yes, and I don’t care.”

Giggling, you gasped as his mouth latched onto your breast. 

It was so simple. For a profiler, he was remarkably predictable.


End file.
